


Hitter, Hacker, Thief and Devil Dogs

by KahtyaSofia



Series: Generation Kill/Leverage Crossover Fics [2]
Category: Generation Kill, Leverage
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-06
Updated: 2009-12-06
Packaged: 2017-10-04 05:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KahtyaSofia/pseuds/KahtyaSofia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One night at CNAS, security is breached by an acquaintance of Brad's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hitter, Hacker, Thief and Devil Dogs

 

“You promised me dinner,” Brad said, scanning lines of code on his laptop screen. He was sitting at the little round conference table in Nate’s office at CNAS.

“I gave you half a sandwich,” Nate replied, without glancing up from the laptop on his desk.

“That’s a snack,” Brad fired back, still reading code.

“I didn’t have to share,” Nate began to type.

“You still owe me dinner,” Brad maintained, now just trying to rile Nate.

“Want a list of what you still owe me?” Nate asked, raising a single eyebrow as he typed but still not looking up.

“I pay you with services rendered,” Brad said distractedly, looking closely at a line of anomalous code. A cold knot of dread began to form in his gut.

“You’re still behind in your payments,” Nate said with a grin.

“Nate?” Brad asked, not liking what the lines of code were telling him.

“Hmm?” Nate‘s tone sounded distracted.

“Any new employees that might have found their way to the Records Room before having codes assigned?” Brad tried for casual but the question itself was like an alarm.

Nate’s head popped up and he looked straight at Brad, now. “No. Why?”

“I’m seeing indications that my physical security measures are being triggered,” Brad typed in some commands and read the results. “And my electronic safeguards may have been circumvented.”

Nate stood and came around his desk to peer over Brad’s shoulder. “What the hell?”

“No,” Brad mused. “This is a targeted incursion, not an accidental entry.”

“What?” Nate sounded disbelieving. “You can’t be serious?”

“I warned you that your client lists, contracts and proposals contain information people would pay for,” Brad said dryly. “And you said the integrated physical and electronic security I installed was overkill.”

“Why aren’t any alarms sounding?” Nate asked, confused. “Where is Security?”

“That’s the interesting thing,” Brad said, typing rapidly. “The electronic bypass is good, but they didn’t anticipate the integration of physical security. Still, whoever is in there is very, very good at circumventing that kind of thing.”

“I don’t follow,” Nate said, intense and impatient.

“They know enough to keep the alarms from sounding,” Brad explained as he stood up. “But not enough to keep from triggering the entire system. Got your sidearm?”

“Yeah,” Nate answered, and returned to his desk to retrieve his weapon. “Should we notify Security?”

“What are rent-a-cops gonna do that you and I can’t?” Brad asked incredulously, taking his own M9 from its ankle holster.

“Point,” Nate conceded, checking to see his sidearm was loaded as Brad did the same.

“Bring your cell in case we decide to call the police,” Brad said, leading the way down the hallway to the elevator.

“What else would we do?” Nate asked.

“Disappear them,” Brad was only half kidding.

“Don’t even joke about something like that,” Nate said gravely.

“I’m just saying,” Brad shrugged. “It’s an option.”

They left the elevator a floor early so they could make a silent entry into the Records Room. Nate took the lead. He keyed a code into the keypad beside large, double fire doors. Quietly, Nate pressed one of the doors open and stepped through. He kept his weapon pointed in one direction, so when Brad stepped through, he pointed his the opposite way. Brad controlled the door so that it closed silently, then they stood and listened.

He’d expected to hear movements, not a voice. Brad motioned for Nate to move forward toward the rows of mobile shelving on the far side of the room.

Together they swung around the final shelf, both pointing their sidearms at the man who stood contemplating the lock mechanism of the single fire door.

“I told you to check for integrated physical security, didn’t I?” the man said in a harsh whisper. “Did you listen to me? No. What good is retrieving the information if I _can’t get out of the building_?”

Brad had a sense of déjà vu when he realized the man appeared to be talking to himself. He paused to take in the stocky build and thick, dark hair falling past his shoulders.

“Eliot,” Brad called experimentally.

He was aware of the sharp look Nate shot him, even as he watched Eliot spin around in surprise.

“Eliot Spencer,” Brad said with a sigh when he got a clear look at cornflower blue eyes. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Ah hell,” Eliot growled even as Brad saw recognition dawn in his eyes. “Hardison, did ya happen to notice there was a Recon Marine on the payroll here?”

Nate’s expression was one of complete bafflement and he kept darting glances at Brad.

“The CEO, huh?” Eliot rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you didn’t think it was relevant, but now I’m face-to-face with a Viking. _Again_.”

“Eliot, what are you doing in here?” Brad asked impatiently, keeping his gun leveled at his adversary.

“Getting caught, apparently,” Eliot said ruefully.

“Do you know this guy, Brad?” Nate asked sharply.

“We’ve met,” Brad replied dryly.

“Who the fuck is he and what’s he doing in my Records Room?” Nate demanded.

“His name is Eliot Spencer and he’s a retrieval specialist,” Brad supplied.

“What is a retrieval specialist?” Nate asked, impatience tingeing his voice.

“It’s a euphemistic term for a thief,” Brad said derisively.

Nate took a menacing step forward and Eliot put up his hands defensively. “What are you after?” he asked.

“Our client hired us to retrieve information CNAS has been using to blackmail him,” Eliot replied quickly.

“Blackmail?” Nate asked incredulously. “Is this making sense to you, Brad?”

“Not at all,” Brad answered. “Eliot, I warned you about causing trouble in my city last time we met.”

“And I took your warning very seriously,” Eliot said.

“And yet, here you are trying to crack my security measures,” Brad observed. “Unsuccessfully, I might add.”

Eliot’s head tilted as if he was listening to something. “I told you to scan for physical security measures, too. Did you listen, Hardison? As usual, no, you didn’t.”

“All right,” Nate snapped. “Just what the fuck is going on here?”

“Time to toss the comm device, Eliot,” Brad instructed.

He watched as Eliot removed the small object from his ear and palmed it. It was most likely of a high enough quality that those on the other end could still hear them, but Brad’s primary concern was to keep Eliot from receiving information or instructions.

“Okay,” Brad started. “Wanna tell me why you’re trying to retrieve so-called blackmail material from a think tank, consulting firm?”

“CNAS uses its access to high ranking officials to gather personal information about them that the CEO, Nate Fick, uses as blackmail material.” Eliot’s entire explanation was delivered with great sincerity.

“Nate,” Brad said lightly. “It seems you’ve failed to disclose a secondary source of income to me. How’s that little side project working out for you?”

“Not very well, apparently,” Nate replied. “Since this is the first I’m hearing of it.”

Eliot pointed impotently in Nate’s direction. “You mean you’re …”

“Eliot Spencer, meet Nate Fick,” Brad interrupted. “CEO of CNAS and former Captain in the Marine Corps.”

“Recon, right?” Eliot asked with a shake of his head.

“That’s right,” Nate answered.

“It figures,” Eliot said, almost to himself. “I just know the next part is where we all realize my team’s been conned and we’re being used for industrial espionage.”

“It seems that way,” Brad said laconically. “What’s your client’s name?”

“Brenton Heauser,” Eliot answered readily. “He said you consulted with him for a project and then falsified certain facts to use them against him.”

Nate glanced at Brad, his brow furrowed in confusion. “That makes no sense, Brad.”

“Color me surprised,” Brad drawled. “We’re not going to sort this out standing around your Records Rooms with our guns drawn. Let’s take this back to your office and get to the bottom of it.”

“Is that a good idea?” Nate asked, eyeing Eliot warily.

Brad lowered his M9. “He won’t get far if he runs,” he said, gesturing toward Eliot. “But I don’t think he will.”

Slow and easy, Brad and Nate backed out of the room as Eliot followed them cautiously. In the hallway, Brad motioned for Eliot to precede them to the elevator.

“Can we back up several steps?” Nate asked with frustration. “I still don’t know who this guy is or where you know him from. What the fuck is he doing breaking into my building and why haven’t you killed him for it?”

“His name is Eliot Spencer and I met him one night when you were out of town,” Brad said, then stopped at Nate’s raised eyebrows. “It wasn’t like that. We were in public and I ended up threatening his life, is all.”

“You threatened to kill him last time but you’re not acting on it now?”

“I’m trusting he has a good reason for being here,” Brad replied. “Think of Eliot as a modern day Robin Hood with a team of Merry Men.”

“Nah,” Eliot argued. “Nate’s Robin Hood. I’m just one of the members of his team.”

“How did I get to be Robin Hood?” Nate asked, bewildered.

Eliot snorted in humor. “Wrong Nate,” he turned to walk backward as he talked. “The guy I work for is Nate. Nathan Ford.”

“Okay, would someone start from the beginning and just make sure the story ends with why the hell I’ve been labeled a blackmailer and how the hell my security was breached?”

“_My_ security measures, the ones you didn’t think you needed, I might add,” Brad said with a pointed look at Nate. “Did exactly what they were supposed to do.”

They entered Nate’s office and Brad shut the door and leaned against it, sidearm still in hand. Nate leaned against his desk, deceptively relaxed in appearance. He, too, still held his weapon.

“Okay, Eliot,” Brad said. “Start from the beginning.”

“I don’t know everything,” Eliot said, taking a seat at the small table next to Brad’s closed laptop. “Nate selects the clients. He checks them out, too, so this guy must be good. Like I said, his name is Brenton Heauser and he claims information was stolen from him and is being used to blackmail him. Hardison was supposed to have neutralized security for me to get in, download and delete the information, then get out.”

“This is why that computer isn’t networked, Nate,” Brad said as an aside. “If it was accessible from the outside, they’d have just hacked it and you might be none the wiser.”

“Thank you for that, by the way,” Eliot interjected. “That really pissed Hardison off. Made my day.”

“I still don’t understand _why_ Heauser would employ _you_ to retrieve anything,” Nate said. “Information or otherwise.”

“That’s what we do,” Eliot addressed himself directly to Nate. “When people have no one to help them and nowhere else to turn, we provide them with … leverage.”

“Uh huh,” Nate said doubtfully, turning his sharp gaze on Brad. “You buying this shit?”

“You aren’t a Marine, anymore,” Brad said with a smirk. “Let alone tapped into the Special Forces community. We’re peripherally aware of a group of former thieves who’ve turned over new leafs. So to speak.”

“Okay, you obviously give this credence,” Nate said, reaching for something on his desk. “I have my doubts, but I have faith in _you_.” Brad watched Nate hand a framed photo to Eliot. “Did you ever see Heauser?”

“Once,” Eliot answered, taking the photo.

“Is he in that photo?”

Eliot placed a finger on one of the faces. “That’s him.”

“That explains part of this,” Nate said. “That is not Brenton Heauser. _This_ is Brenton Heauser.”

Brad watched Nate hand the photo back to Eliot with his finger on a completely different face.

“I’ve never seen that guy before,” Eliot said darkly.

“If the guy who hired Eliot’s team isn’t Heauser,” said Brad. “Then who is he?”

“Edward Prager,” Nate replied in a dark tone.

“Oh hell,” Brad sighed.

“Hey,” Eliot spoke up, getting Brad and Nate’s attention. “I’m pretty sure I don’t have to worry about you guys killing me right away. I’ve been off comms long enough, the team might have mounted a rescue attempt.”

“Not a good idea,” Brad said.

“I get that,” Eliot replied. He held up his comm device. “I should maybe check in and try to call them off.”

Brad gestured for Eliot to proceed.

Slipping the device into place, Eliot stood and began to pace. “Nate, are you there? It’s Eliot.”

Nate crossed the office to stand next to Brad. He leaned in as he whispered, “You like him.”

“What? Who?” Brad asked, confused.

“Eliot. You like him.”

“I suppose I do,” Brad conceded, then decided to have some fun with Nate. “He’s got great hair. Have you seen his eyes? What a color. And that mouth. The things it can probably do to a man. Have you checked out that tight, compact body of his?”

“You’re fucking with me, Brad,” Nate said icily. “Tell me you’re fucking with me. You better be fucking with me, cause I’d hate to have to kill your little buddy.”

Brad grinned broadly at Nate and was pleased when it was returned.

“No, Nate, no,” Eliot said suddenly. “Hey, man, things are fine here. Our client’s a Con, though. His real name is Edward Prager.” There was a long pause while Eliot apparently listened. “Heauser is probably a victim, as much as us and CNAS.” Eliot’s pacing increased and he seemed to grow agitated. “Nate, I said I’m fine. Stop her, she’ll make things worse.”

Brad watched Eliot roll his eyes. “Parker, get the hell out of here,” Eliot growled.

Brad stood from where he was leaning against the office door.

“Yeah, Hardison,” Eliot exclaimed. “Well your track record with CNAS security ain’t all that impressive.”

Brad smirked at that.

There was a small sound in the ceiling above them. It was subtle, but Brad and Nate both heard it and raised their weapons upward.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, guys,” Eliot said, hands lifted in entreaty. “It’s probably just Parker. She’s here for me.”

“Parker,” Brad repeated. “Is that the blond or the brunette?”

“Blond,” Eliot responded. “She’s a little crazy but basically harmless.”

“I can hear you,” came a distinctly feminine voice from somewhere overhead.

“Parker,” Eliot barked up at the ceiling. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I was supposed to be rescuing you,” she answered hesitantly. “But Hardison doesn’t seem to have shut off all the security measures.”

Brad snorted.

“How the hell did she get in?” Nate asked, incredulously.

Eliot shrugged. “That’s what Parker does.”

“This is just getting ridiculous,” Nate groused. “How do we get her out of there?”

Brad stepped around the table to his laptop. Opening it up, he typed several lines of code into different windows.

“See that vent up there?” he asked Eliot, pointing to an innocuous grate in the center of the room. “Have her egress there.”

“Parker?” Eliot called up to the ceiling. “Where exactly are you, darlin’?”

There was a soft knock from above.

“Can you see a vent ahead of you?” Eliot asked, moving to stand just under the grating.

“Yep, see it,” Parker confirmed. There were sounds of scratching and scrambling from overhead.

“Damn, girl. You’re not always that noisy, are you?” Eliot said loudly.

There was a muffled reply. “Well, you already know I’m here.”

A moment later, a loud clank accompanied the sight of the vent swinging open on its hinges. A thin, attractive blond slid from the ceiling vent, landing on her feet lithely.

Parker glanced over at Brad and gave him an enthusiastic wave, much like the one she’d given him all that time ago in the bar.

“You got caught,” Parker whispered, poking Eliot in the arm.

“Yeah, well so did you,” he said dryly.

“Hey, you’re right,” she said, brows drawing together in confusion. “How did that happen?”

“Yeah, Brad,” Nate joined in. “Your security was breached twice, tonight.”

“My security,” Brad said slowly. “Did just what I designed it to do. It’s difficult to get in, sure. But it’s impossible to get out.”

Eliot gripped the bridge of his nose between this thumb and forefinger. Parker’s lips formed a silent ‘O’ of comprehension.

“It’s like a mousetrap,” she said with wonder.

“And Hardison just paved our way right in,” Eliot growled.

Parker’s expression told Brad that Hardison’s reply was less than agreeable.

Eliot reached into the front pocket of his jeans. He withdrew a key fob and handed it to Brad.

“That’s the storage device I loaded your data onto,” Eliot explained.

Brad separated the fob from the key ring and discovered a cleverly hidden thumb drive. He slid it into his laptop to see what Eliot had managed to get a hold of.

“Nate wants to know,” Eliot paused. “That’s _my_ Nate; wants to know why Edward Prager would masquerade as Brenton Heauser to obtain this particular information.”

Parker elbowed Eliot’s arm. “So he _is_ your Nate?” she stage whispered.

“No, Parker,” Eliot replied as if addressing a small child. “I mean Nathan Ford as opposed to Nate Fick.” He gestured behind them to where Nate stood.

“Oh. _Oh_,” Parker said.

“Prager used to be a friendly acquaintance,” Nate explained. “At least until CNAS submitted a theory and a solution to the current Administration that addressed some recent, suspicious attacks on high ranking Iraqi officials.”

“Prager works for the State Department and the CNAS theory implicates him,”  
Brad finished.

“So, he didn’t send us after blackmail material, did he?” Eliot asked.

“No,” Brad answered. “He sent you after Nate’s report and all the incriminating evidence.”

“Nate is _so_ gonna ruin this guy’s life,” Parker said in an aside to Eliot.

“I’m so gonna kill him,” Brad said heatedly.

“No, Brad,” Nate said softly. “That’s not how we handle things anymore.”

“I still have my K-Bar,” Brad insisted.

“No,” Nate said, with a shake of his head. “Turn them loose to do what it is they do. I’m assured that justice will be served if you do.”

Brad sighed heavily. “Yes, sir.”

Parker looked as though she was going to re-enter the vent.

“Front door,” Brad called out. “The elevator will only open in the lobby and armed security will escort you out the front door.”

“Have I ever left out the front door before?” Parked asked Eliot.

With a hand at her back, Eliot steered her toward the office door that Nate held open. “Yes, you have, darlin’. And you’re about to do so again.”

“Bye, Devil Dogs,” Parker called as she waved over her shoulder and stepped into the hall.

Eliot paused in the doorway. “You’ll understand if I say I hope I never see the two of you again?”

Nate smiled.

“Goodbye, Eliot,” Brad said.

And they were gone.

“You owe me more than dinner, now,” Brad said, shutting down his laptop.

“How about I pay you with some ‘services rendered’?” Nate asked with a lascivious grin.

“Let’s go home, then,” Brad grabbed Nate’s wrist and headed for the door. “So you can start servicing me.”

 


End file.
